


All the World’s a Power Outage

by artificialmac



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 08:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19081261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artificialmac/pseuds/artificialmac
Summary: Bianca is scared of the dark due to past trauma. So when the lights go out in her and Adore's apartment, the younger queen is tasked with taking care of an anxious Bianca.





	All the World’s a Power Outage

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically just a snapshot of Adore and Bianca's relationship. I kept seeing fics of Bianca taking care of a fragile Adore, and wanted to flip the script a bit. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy<3

“What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You had to have done something.”

“I didn’t do anything! Where are you?” Danny threw his arms out, while in the process hitting his hand on the counter. “Fuck, ow.” He brought his hand up to his mouth and winced.

“What’d _you_ do?”

“I hit my hand on the counter. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the kitchen.” Danny heard movement around him, and he jumped slightly when he heard a bump about three inches to his left and a responding curse.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m fine.”

Danny felt a presence beside him, and he immediately relaxed when he felt familiar hands trying to map him out. When Roy finally figured out where Danny’s hands were, he grasped them tightly. Danny smiled, although it couldn’t have been made out. He squeezed Roy’s hands in assurance, knowing the older man’s distaste for the dark. 

It wasn’t something he was proud of; a fact Danny had learned early on when he first teased Roy about it. They had gone to the movies, a regular go-to date night for them. Danny can’t remember what they were seeing, only that when the projector sparked, and the screen cut out, leaving the audience in complete darkness, Roy’s breathing became labored. Danny could hear him inhale and exhale as if he had just run a mile. The younger man didn’t know what to do back then, trying to communicate was pointless, as Roy could barely hear over the sound of his own labored breaths. Finally, the house lights flickered on, and Danny was met with a red-faced, wide-eyed Roy who just wanted to go home. 

They slept a foot apart that night. Danny tracing patterns on the sheets rather than Roy’s chest. 

Roy’s anxiety about the dark had happened a few more times since then. Trial and error turning out to be Danny’s best teacher for how to help his boyfriend. They didn’t talk about the _why_ , until almost a year after the movie incident when a similar situation happened at a club. 

They wanted to be spontaneous and fun and prove that they were both still young. Roy ended up pulling a muscle in his back and Danny twisted his ankle. But the real shock came when the strobe lights suddenly cut off. There were still a few stray beams of flickering lights along the edges of the floor and in the high vaulted ceilings. The shutting off of the lights led to a rousing cheer from the patrons, and another anxiety attack from Roy. Danny had been calmer this time and had led Roy out of the club and into open air. Roy sat on a bench and tried to catch his breath, while Danny rubbed his back in calming circles. He didn’t speak. He had learned by now not to speak. It made it worse somehow. 

When Roy’s breathing returned to normal, he pulled Danny to sit beside him, and held the younger man close. Danny moved slowly, not too fast to worry Roy, and not too slow that Roy thought he had gone, but steady as he ran fingers through Roy’s hair, until the tension in Roy’s shoulders had dissipated. 

The two would walk back to their apartment, hand in hand. Roy would be angry at himself. Always after the fact. Mad that he felt the way he did, mad that he had such a strong reaction, mad that Danny knew exactly all the ways to help him. Roy would be mad for a few hours, and Danny would leave him alone, knowing by now not to poke the bear. 

But finally, Roy came out and sat next to Danny on their worn-out couch and thanked him. Roy breathed in and out, preparing himself. Danny grasped his hands and gave an encouraging smile. 

When Roy looked up at him, there was not a trace of pity or mockery. 

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do.”

“Really, you don’t. I just need to know if I’m helping or hurting.”

Roy looked at him in shock, “Helping, helping. You always help. Even when you got it wrong you were helping.”

Danny smiles lightly. “I know this is hard, being vulnerable for you at least, I know I cry once a day.” He gave a light chuckle. “And I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“Aren’t you supposed to share important things with the person you love?”

Danny stared at him for a minute, unblinking. Neither of them had said the L word before. Both knowing the other felt it, but never really needing to verbalize it. 

Danny had just nodded.

Roy breathed in and out and began telling Danny the story. The usually brash and vulgar Roy used delicate language and flowery metaphors that Danny didn’t even know he was capable of using. He described, vaguely, the outline of a family friend in his childhood bedroom. The darkness he saw, and the darkness he felt when he remembered it. Danny stopped him at one point, Roy visibly shaking at the memory. 

They held each other closer that night. And the plug-in light that Roy had always insisted turning on, kept them company.

So, when the lights in their apartment went out, and Danny found Roy’s hands in the dark. He knew what to do, and what to say to keep Roy calm.

“Come with me, let’s go sit down.” Danny was calm and collected, and Roy followed his lead over to the living room. They sat side by side, and Danny noticeably slowed his breathing in an attempt to get Roy to follow suit. The older man did his best, and while the breaths that came out were still shaky, they were noticeably calmer. 

When the lights flickered back on, some twenty minutes later, Roy’s breathing had become slow, his eyes closed, and he only noticed the return of the lights when Danny placed a soft hand to his shoulder. 

Roy perked up and gave Danny an appreciative smile and a kiss to the cheek, before getting up on shaky legs to resume his work.


End file.
